


Stuff Happens.

by Softchelles



Category: Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: F/M, lots and lots of awkward, really vague references to sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-17
Updated: 2018-11-17
Packaged: 2019-08-24 20:29:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,028
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16647245
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Softchelles/pseuds/Softchelles
Summary: Despite his protesting, May believes there's certain things Peter needs to take with him on his trip, just to be safe...Aka condoms fall out of Peter's bag and there's no hiding it.





	Stuff Happens.

**Author's Note:**

> Alright look. This has been sitting in my drafts for a few days, along with a couple other things I'm working on and hoping to get out before Christmas. Am I happy with how it ultimately came out? No. Am I going to post it anyways? Yes. Are you going to forgive my lack of editing and mediocre literary skills? I hope so.
> 
> In the meantime, catch me @ softchelles on twitter, because I'm always down to hear your thoughts and talk about these dumb dorks. 
> 
> As far as content goes.... there's going to be talk of sex.  
> Obviously.  
> But it's sooooo vague guys. Like so so vague. Like I could have honestly lowered the rating, but I wanted to be extra safe.  
> Be safe.  
> It's important. 
> 
> Alright cool, enough of my blabbering, here we go.

The suitcase landed with a thud onto the carpet in his room, bringing an avalanche of debris along with it. Peter coughed as he waved his hand through the air to in an attempt break up some of dust particles. It was obvious the luggage had not seen the light of day in quite some time. He brushed some of the dirt off the edges as he examined the exterior, and that’s when he saw it. “Ah. Crap.”

“What?” The sound of his aunt calling from the living room was followed shortly by the pitter-patter of her feet across the floorboards as she entered his room. “What is it?”

Peter meant to only lightly shake the handle, but it broke completely into his hand. May’s face fell. “Oh. That’s problematic.”

“I could probably use duct tape, or something?” It was a suggestion, but the infliction in his voice sounded more like a question, as if he was waiting for Aunt May’s approval or rejection. 

He wasn’t expecting a suggestion.  
“Actually, I might have something else we can use...” She frowned before disappeared into her own bedroom. He could hear things being shuffled around before May returned with a hard case. It was black, with leather details around the corners, around the edges, and a small patch in the center, the familiar initials still etched into the embellishment. 

BP.

“May, I—this is Uncle Ben’s,” Peter stammered, shaking his head in disbelief. “You know I can’t—I mean, what if something happens, I—“

 

“Peter, it’s just a suitcase,” she reminded him gently, brushing one of his loose curls back into place while she spoke. “It’s not that big of a deal. He’d want you to use it. He’d want you to go and have a good time.” 

“I don’t know…” 

He still felt conflicted about this entire thing. She was probably right in that his uncle would support Peter. He would encourage him to go out and see the world, or whatever. And it might be kind nice to go to Europe for fun, not just because Captain America and a team of rogue Avengers were out of control and Iron Man needed Spiderman’s help bringing them back in—which, he was definitely, by no means, complaining. That weekend in Germany was seriously the coolest thing Peter’s done in—ever. Seriously. He fought Captain America. He stole his shield! (And yeah, then he beat him up, but still! How many teenagers could say that? Not many.) But this school trip was a chance for him to actually be a kid. A normal, high school senior spending two weeks with his classmates soaking up culture and cool life experiences before being thrust into the adult world after graduation. Plus, when talking about his trip to Europe in college essays it would probably sound better to describe the museums, the art, the foods—and focus less on the fighting good guys gone bad thing. 

Whether or not the good guys were actually bad was still… to be determined. It was complicated. It’s not like it got any easier to figure out after Thanos. They were all still dealing with the aftermath. Peter still woke up screaming, gasping for air to fill his fading lungs, and May would run in no matter how late into the night it was. She’d pull him into her arms, whispering softly while stroking his hair, reminding him that he was here, he was safe. He was okay.

It wasn’t like the post-snap recovery was a walk in the park for May, either. She cracked down on patrols and was way more likely to freak out if he didn’t call to check in at least four times while he was out. She put one of those GPS apps on his phone one night, thinking he wouldn’t notice. Although it would take literally three seconds to disable, honestly he wouldn’t even need Ned’s help—he left it on to give her some sort of peace of mind. Because Peter was all she had left. She had lost him once and had no desire to lose him again.

And he had no plans to leave her again.  
Which is why this school trip left him so conflicted.

“Are you sure it’s a good idea?” he asked for probably the millionth time that week. 

“Yes, Peter. I already told you. I trust Mr. Harrington. As long as you check in with me every day, and stick to the itinerary, I have no complaints.”

He wanted to point out that Mr. Harrington didn’t exactly have a perfect track record when it came to overseeing school trips, but he swallowed the words and chose to simply nod back. “Yeah. Okay. I can do that.”

May offered him a smile, ruffling the hair she had just brushed moments before. “Good. Now let’s get packing. You have to be at the airport in less than eight hours, I seriously cannot believe you waited this long to get this done.”

“I was busy!” he argued, unable to fight the defensive tone slipping into his voice as she started to sift through the contents of his closet. 

“Likely story,” she mused. Although she knew as well as he did that, much to May’s dismay, Peter had been cramming in far too many last minute Spidey sessions, as if he wanted to wait until the last possible minute to cease patrolling so that the neighborhood had stronger chances of surviving while he was away.

He watched as she started folding one of his signature flannels, pulling one of his t shirts from the rack to go along with her selection. 

“I packed your bag full of TSA sized toiletries already,” she said with a soft smile, nodding towards the kitchen. “It’s on the counter.”

“Oh cool, thanks!” Because that was new. Airport security. The only other time he’d been on a plane it had been one of Tony’s private ones, and they got to bypass security entirely because duh, he’s Tony Stark. As he walked into the kitchen and decided to look through what May had packed all the rules she’d been going over with him started to replay in his mind. Take your shoes off. Remove your belt. The spider suit was…. A bit of a challenge. But Tony assured him the cloaking technology would make it look like any ordinary sweatshirt, and the bored soul screening his bag wouldn’t catch a thing. Besides, that was going in his suitcase. His carry on, with his laptop, his wallet, his headphones, his trip itinerary, his toiletries-- should be fine. 

Inside the bag he found what May promised. A bottle of shampoo, smaller than 3.4 ounces. Similarly sized bottles for conditioner and body wash. A small travel sized stick of deodorant. Condoms…

Wait.

Condoms?

“May!” he yelped, pulling one of the packets from the bag. “What the hell is this?!”

May poked her head through the door frame of his room, rolling her eyes. “Are those sex ed courses really that inefficient that you don’t know what a—“

“No, I know. I know what it is,” he cut her off, shaking his head with his eyes shut as if he could end their entire conversation by squeezing his eyes hard enough. “But this. Why is this in here?”

“I’m not an idiot, Peter. And you shouldn’t be one, either. I just want you to be safe…”

“What makes you think I’ll be needing these?!”

May stifled a laugh. “Look. Honey. Stuff happens. I’d rather you be safe than sorry.”

“I’m not—I don’t—these are staying here!” He started to set the items down onto the counter top.

“Oh no they’re not!” May snapped back, bursting into the room and throwing them back into his bag just as quickly as he’d taken them out. He tried to protest, but she held up a finger to silence him. “They’re going with you.”

“But May—“

“No buts! You’re taking them!” She zipped up the bag he now knew to be full of toothpaste, soap, and condoms before shoving it forcefully at his chest. “End of discussion.”

He frowned, because this was a battle he had lost. 

She laughed again, placing a kiss against his forehead. “You’ll thank me later.”

\--

He didn’t thank her later.

It was later-- when he was shoving his bags into the overhead compartment of their train, that he did the opposite of thanked her. He cursed her, silently, from the other end of the world. Because the storage space was limited, even more so because of Flash and his excessive baggage. And Peter’s bag was the last to go in. So he pushed and pushed, hoping to make it fit inside.

His efforts had the opposite effect.

With one final attempted push his bag came flying down, spilling the contents all over the floor of the train. He let out a frustrated sigh before falling to his knees to start picking everything up.

He could feel Ned at his side, the guy in the chair ironically slipping out of his and onto the ground to help Peter gather his things.

“There’s probably more room in the ba—woah. Wait.” 

There’s moments in movies where small things turn big, where it’s like time slows down and everyone in the room is suddenly very much aware and focused in on something that should have been not that big of a deal. And that small, insignificant thing stays a big thing long enough for everyone to study, observe, and overanalyze the thing that nobody should have noticed in the first place. 

This moment, tragically, found Peter in real life, as one of the condoms that May had packed had somehow found its way onto the floor. All eyes in their compartment turned to watch as Ned held it up for the world to see. 

“Dude!” Peter hissed, grabbing it quickly from Ned’s hands.  
But not fast enough.

“Penis Parker! Planning on getting some?!” Flash laughed obnoxiously from somewhere up above him.

“Oh wow. Peter,” Betty giggled from somewhere behind him.

“Bro! When were you going to tell me?” Ned asked from directly across from him, falling into his old habit of asking way too many questions “Who—“ 

“May,” Peter tried to explain, shoving the packet into his back pocket. His eyes widened with the realization that his vague answer made this situation look even worse.

“Dude… your aunt?”

“God, no, Ned. Not like that. May gave them to me, she thought… look. Can we not talk about this here?” His eyes frantically searched the train to see if there was anyone that managed to miss this fiasco. 

Unfortunately, it seemed that everyone saw.

Including Michelle.

She was watching with a raised brow, an amused smirk—an expression he’d seen a million times before. But there was a hint of something else. It flashed briefly in her eyes. Much unlike his embarrassing moment, which should have also been small and insignificant and quickly glanced over, the shift in her eyes was gone before he really had a chance to figure out what just happened.

“We’re talking about this later,” Ned insisted, helping shove the last of Peter’s stuff into the bag. “Unless, you’ll be busy. You know… doing… stuff.”

Having died once before, Peter thought he would never wish for death.

The awkwardness shoved into that tiny train car proved him wrong. 

\--

He had hoped that as the day progressed, the embarrassment would die down. That they would move on and focus on the world around them they were supposed to be exploring. But somehow the incident kept coming back to haunt him.

On the bus, when Mr. Harrington reminded them all to buckle up, because it’s important to be safe, it was Jason who made a snide remark about how Parker’s already got that one covered.

In the art museum, when they gathered around a statue—and it was beautiful, he’s beautiful, chiseled out of stone with a sharp jawline, curved abs—and an exposed….

Yeah.

It sent everyone into a frenzy, quiet giggles as they snuck glances back at Peter, who pretended to be far too caught up in the art to notice their reaction. 

At dinner, when the waiter brought out baguettes, Flash somehow managed to turn the baked good into an euphemism for Penis Parker’s penis. It all got to be too much, and honestly he was exhausted. His cheeks were still red, but his eyes had started to sting, and he was approaching the breaking point. Fast.

“Mr. Harrington, I think I left my book upstairs,” Michelle interrupted. Her voice piqued his interest, causing him to peek up at her through his lashes.

“Oh, I think you’ll make it through dinner without your—“

Michelle’s glare was obviously effective, because the words catch their chaperone’s throat. “Oh. Okay. Yeah. You should go. Get that.”

“Great,” she replied, and without missing a beat she added, “Peter. Come with me.”

“What?” He was clearly caught off guard, sitting upright abruptly.

“I’m going to end up lost. You’re the only one not trapped in this booth. Let’s go.” 

He didn’t have time to argue because she was already sliding out her end of the table. He quickly followed suit.

They walked down the hallway in silence, out of the restaurant, into the lobby, up the elevator. They were all staying on the fourth floor, so Peter didn’t understand when she hit a button that didn’t match.

“Uh, Michelle. We’re not—“

“Just shut up,” she replied while keeping her eyes glued to the elevator door. He shoved his hands awkwardly into his pockets, allowing his eyes to do the same.

When the doors opened up they were not on the fourth floor.  
They were on a rooftop.

Michelle stepped out into the brisk evening air first.

He followed shortly after.

“You didn’t forget to bring your book, did you?” Peter asked slowly.

“No, of course not,” she answered with a nonchalant shrug as she walked towards the building’s edge.

“And…” He followed cautiously after her, joining her by the edge of the roof. “You weren’t scared you were going to get lost.”

“Are you really all that mad?” she turned to face him, waiting for an answer she already knew he wouldn’t give. “I think both of us could use the fresh air.” 

“Yeah,” he agreed, letting out a shaky breath he had been holding all day. “Thanks.

“Don’t mention it,” she insisted. “Flash is a real dick. All of them. They’re losers.”

“I thought I was, too,” he reminded her with a laugh. It was a word she had used to describe him time and time again.

“Yes, but a different kind of loser. They’re their own special breed, and it’s annoying. I’m annoyed. So here we are.”

“Here we are.”

The stars were starting to arrive as the last shreds of sunlight disappeared behind the horizon. It was easy to get lost in, almost powerful enough to make him forget the trauma from the day’s events.

It was Michelle breaking the silence that pulled him back.

“You shouldn’t be embarrassed,” she started, “for having that stuff. Doing that stuff. Like yeah, okay, it was funny. Haha. You brought condoms. But honestly. You’re eighteen. You’re can do whatever you want, with whoever you want, and they’re just jealous because they’re not getting any. I’m sure whoever you’re doing it with is very lucky and happy and it doesn’t matter what anyone else thinks.”

“Oh. I’m not—no. I’m not doing… it. With anyone. At the moment. No,” he explained weakly.

“You’re not?” she asked, turning once again to face him.

“No. My aunt—I guess she thought with the whole foreign country thing, I’d find love, or something, and—she wanted me to be safe.”

Michelle laughed, shaking her head gently. “Your aunt means well, I’m sure. She’s a good person. Good heart.”

“Yeah.” 

There was an unspoken comment at the end. Words he can feel on the edge of her tongue. Blanks he almost dared fill in for her. Instead she shivered and pulled her jacket closer to her body. “It’s kind of cold.” 

“Uh. Yeah,” he agreed. “Yeah, I guess we should… go back. Probably.”

“Yeah, that’s probably a good idea.”

They were in the elevator, halfway back down to the lobby, when the panic set in.  
“Oh shit, your book!”  
“What about it?” Michelle asked.  
“Your book! We went to go look for your book. If we go back without the book, they’re gonna—and Flash, he’ll—and they’ll think we were—“

She interrupted his stammering by pulling a book from the messenger bag at her side. “Relax. They won’t.”

He let out a sigh of relief. 

Her fingers tapped against the spine of the book in her hands as she paused for a moment. Another. “Would it have been so bad if they did?”

“What?” Peter blinked back at her. She was deliberately avoiding his gaze, although this time her eyes weren’t confidently glued to the elevator’s doors. They had fallen to the floor before her curls fell into her face, concealing them completely.

“Nothing. Sorry. That was stupid.”

“No, it wasn’t. I mean, I wasn’t—“

The door opened before he could further ask, before he could further clarify, before there could be any sort of proper closure to their conversation.

\--

Turns out, that wasn’t a conversation that needed closure.  
That was a conversation that ended in action.  
A specific type of action that occurred exactly 12 days after the conversation that had started this whole mess.

“Are you sure?” he mumbled against her lips, to which she nodded enthusiastically before answering. “Yeah. Yes. Do you still have… that stuff? From May?”

He pulled back, his face just inches from hers before he let out a laugh. “Uh yeah. Yeah. I do.”

She laughed back before pulling him by the neck in for another kiss.

And it turns out, May Parker was right.

He wasn’t going to be thanking her though. 

He was far too busy thanking whatever cosmic being allowed Michelle Jones to come into his life.

And plus, that would’ve been weird.


End file.
